The Breath of Life
by mirrorOfsin
Summary: They were safe now. At least that is what they kept telling each other when they saw a gleam of armour or heard the beat of hooves on the ground. Reek/Jeyne. Post aDwD.


**Title:** The Breath of Life

**Author:** themirrorofsin

**For:** iorwen107

**Pairings/Characters**: Reek/Jeyne

**Warnings:** Post-ADWD.

**Prompt:** Safe at last, one of them helps the other with their post-traumatic stress.

The Breath of Life

They were safe now. At least that is what they kept telling each other when they saw a gleam of armour or heard the beat of hooves on the ground. No one was looking for them because no one cared about them anymore. They presented no threat especially he who way now a figure of pity and ridicule. He was a broken thing, a wretched figure of a boy – no, a_ man_ – who had once been a prince with a name. But now he was no prince, never had been either – not really – and his name was forgotten, replaced with another that rhymed with what he was, a freak.

He was no one with nowhere as his home.

No, that wasn't true. He was somewhere, a small village where the grim-faced people asked few questions and barely looked at him, too horrified perhaps by his appearance. Here he was tucked away out of sight and out of mind and kept alive only because she had begged for mercy. Because she seemed to care.

To her, he was a saviour.

He thought how ill-fitting that was.

_Reek, Reek, rhymes with weak._

He shivered under the rough blanket that he pulled tighter around his body and shuffled closer to the small fire. Hunger began to gnaw at him but he pushed thoughts of food aside and instead stared at the flames. In his mind however he saw other fires, blazing with rage and then he heard the screams and the smell that came… He shivered again before he curled up on his side and closed his eyes. Those were terrible fires.

_Reek, Reek, rhymes with meek._

Somewhere in his dark, dreamless sleep he heard it. The voice was soft and said a name that sounded so familiar and yet he couldn't place it… The fingers that brushed back his hair were gentle but he still flinched, fearing that soon they would dig in and hurt…

He opened his eyes to find her kneeling by his side. He let out a breath and she removed her hand making him instantly miss the contact. She poked at the fire which was close to dying and then added a couple of logs before she quietly showed him the food she had managed to get. It wasn't a lot but it was better than nothing at all.

He ate though it hurt and she watched with quiet sympathy.

He didn't know why she stayed or why he didn't ask her. She could be re-building her life; she wasn't a traitor like him. She could still get married and live comfortably. So why did she come back to him? This was no life for her.

_Reek, Reek, rhymes with bleak._

He watched her move around the small room before she sat back down next to him. He made some space and she wrapped part of the blanket around her shoulders. He opened his mouth only to close it again and turned his head away.

Then she said his name.

The one from the past, the one from another life when he was someone. When he had all his fingers, toes and teeth. When he had sat seats down from her in Winterfell and occasionally smiled at her when she crossed his path with Sansa. The one he sometimes recalled in a dream.

She said the name of a ghost.

"Theon," she whispered and her breath fell hotly against his neck. He faced her slowly and took in her features. She was still a pretty girl, the kind of girl that he would have tried to pursue. But no girl wanted him now, so why did she look at him with such warmth in her eyes? Why did she touch his cheek and then reach down to take one of his ruined hands into her own?

_Jeyne_, he thought, _it rhymes with pain._

But she wasn't in pain now. She didn't cry all night and day waiting for the next round of tortures to begin. She was safe. She was alive.

Her kiss was fleeting, a light brush of lips over his but he felt it as strongly as any other. He had never had a kiss so innocent and his chest constricted at the simple but overwhelming gesture. His body trembled and she caressed his face to calm him moving to press her body against his own. She was warm and he closed his eyes as she kissed him once more. It was kindness, pure and simple, and he took it though he knew he didn't deserve it.

But her kiss also ignited something within him. It rushed through his broken body and he let out a small gasp as if he had drowned and she had brought him back. He filled his lungs with a deep breath, half hers and half his own and gazed at her. It was as if she had breathed life back into him, jolting his heart that he had thought had long since died and warmed the blood in his veins.

"Jeyne," he said, voice hoarse from hardly using it some days. She smiled a little and squeezed his hand gently. "Tell me my name," he asked, sounding more like a plea.

"You are Theon Greyjoy," she said softly and he nodded once, closing his eyes so that she wouldn't see his tears.

She didn't speak again but rather lead him to the small bed and lay beside him, curling up against his body. He stared at the timber ceiling repeating his name, his real name, over and over. _Theon, Theon, Theon: never forget your name. _

He turned to look down at her, her expression serene as she drifted off to sleep. Her small hand came up to rest on his chest, just above his heart. He shut his eyes as he let out a slow and steady breath.

_Jeyne_, he thought, _the girl that kept him alive_.


End file.
